


Asgardian Blooms

by One_heck_of_a_guy_amiright



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: All The Ships, Florist Thor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve is chaotic good and nobody can tell me otherwise, Tattoo Artist Steve Rogers, The fluffy au you never knew you needed, There's a cherik cameo here too, Thor Is Not Stupid, Thundershield - Freeform, florist/tattoo artist au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:09:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7286566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_heck_of_a_guy_amiright/pseuds/One_heck_of_a_guy_amiright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is a tattoo artist, Thor is a florist. When Steve goes into Thor's shop forinspiration,  the entrancing shop and it's attractive owner keeps him coming back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Steve carefully added the finishing touches to the tiny spider on Natasha's shoulderblade. The red hourglass marking on the black widow spider and the sinister, black body stood out against her pale skin. 

She smiled at him, pleased with the art work. "This looks great, Steve! How much do I owe you?" Steve leaned back with a grin. "How about...a dish of your famous _Okroshka_ and the latest news on everyone?" Natasha laughed. "A bargain. What do you want to know?" He started to put his tools away. "How's Clint? Not seen him in a long time. Does he still not have Facebook?"

Natasha shook her head. "No, he's old fashioned that way. He's got himself a new man, though." Steve raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really?" Natasha nodded. "Yeah, a tall, skinny, English guy. Black hair, green eyes. Not bad if you like that sort of thing. His half-brother owns the florist's down the street." Steve tapped his fingers on his knee. "Florist's? I didn't know there's a florist's around here." Natasha nodded. "Yeah, according to Clint he's this massive Norwegian dog-lover - with long hair," she teased. Steve narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you trying to set me up, Nat?" She placed a hand over her heart as if wounded. "Me? Set you up? With a guy? You slander me, Steve." She purred. "Still, Clint _did_ send me a photo..." Steve manfully resisted the urge to see this Norwegian long-haired dog lover - for about three seconds. "Alright, lemme see him," he sighed. 

Natasha grinned and pulled out her phone. Steve leaned over her shoulder to look. The selfie Clint had sent Nat showed three men. Clint, in the foreground, pouted his lips at the camera (Steve hoped it was ironic) as a tall, thin man wrapped his arms around him from behind and nuzzled his neck (ew). In the background, a huge, muscular blonde stood laughing, obviously fighting off the joyful advances of a huge husky. Even as he appeared in the photo, red-faced with laughter and half-covered in dog, Steve could see he was Hot. 

Natasha, who had been stealing glances at her friend as he looked at the picture, practically punched him in his side. "Ooh, I knew it! Tony's gonna be so mad!" Steve looked at her in askance. "Hold on, I haven't even said if I like him! And you placed a bet with Tony again?" Nat grinned. "Well, I needed to recoup on the whole Bucky and Sam thing, and you _do_ like him." Steve rubbed his head and grinned sheepishly. "Well, I have been thinking about getting some floral decorations around here..."

An hour later, Steve was caught up with all the news. Nat and Bruce had set the date for mid August, Sam and Bucky's little girl was getting so big now, could Steve believe that she would be three in October, Tony and Rhodey were thinking of buying a house, and Peter was seeing a much older man that none of them approved of. He called himself Deadpool, why they didn't know, but his real name was Wade Wilson and he was Canadian. Steve promised to give him the "hurt my kid and I'll beat you up" talk.

The next day, Steve decided to drop into the Florist's shop, reasoning that a fresh bouquet of flowers would not only freshen up the studio, but provide inspiration for him. "Asgardian Blooms," he read aloud. "Weird." This guy must like mythology. 

He walked in, and all five senses were immediately attacked by the sheer presence of the shop. Huge, gorgeous flowers crowded into the small space, arranged so as to create a rainbow of colours. The sweet scents, usually so delicate, were...not overwhelming, but definitely noticable. The air had a sugary taste to it, which Steve attributed to the amount of hummingbird feeders placed in a haphazard display around the shop. The air had a warm, humid feel to it. 

It was almost like a maze of blooms. The counter wasn't visible from the door, and when Steve stepped in a but further it was as if he had stepped into an unfamiliar planet made completely of flowers. When he turned, he couldn't see the door.   
He gave a low whistle. This was one heck of a place. "Hello?" He called. No human answered, but doggy footsteps trotted towards him, and a massive husky approached him with a wildly wagging tail. Steve knelt down to let the dog sniff his fingers, and ruffled his ears. He recognised it as the dog from yesterday's photo. "Hey, buddy. Where's your owner? Where's your owner, huh?" He patted the dog as he looked around. He was pretty sure that this amount of flowers was a fire-hazard, but it was really beautiful. 

Footsteps, human ones this time, made the dog in his arms bark happily and the tail knock a pot of roses over. The man from the photo loomed into view. "Mjolnir! There you are!" He said to the excuted dog. He noticed Steve, standing awkwardly as the dog's tail smacked his legs. "Ah! I am sorry if I kept you waiting. How may I help you?" Steve stood transfixed for a moment. Long, golden hair framed a bearded, handsome face. A plaid shirt stretched across a broad chest, and he was a good foot taller than Steve. These observations took less than a moment, but Steve could've looked at him forever.

"Ah, yes, I was wondering if I could buy some flowers? " Steve said, silently congratulating himself on how smooth and deep his voice sounded. The man nodded. "Certainly. What would you like?" Steve looked around at the multitudes of flowers. "Well, I own a tattoo shop, so I was maybe thinking about something for inspiration..." The talker nodded thoughtfully. "I think I have just the thing."

He went off, and returned with a bouquet of violet daisies. He beckoned Steve over. "These are Michaelmas daisies. They're simple but unusual - a lot of people like to draw them. Will they suffice?" Steve nodded. "These are perfect, thank you." He glanced at the man's name tag - Thor. An unusual name for an unusual man, he supposed. 

He paid for the daisies, and arranged them in the middle of his studio. _they certainly make the place look different,_ he thought. Asgardian Blooms had made an impression on him, as had the owner, Thor. 

He would have to call Nat about it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Spideypool and a Cherik cameo. I may extend this beyond three chapters if asked ;)

Late that night, Peter Parker, unofficial adopted child of Tony Stark, opened his bedroom window. He looked around stealthily, making sure that nobody unwanted could see him. 

He wondered vaguely why he was doing this - after all, he _was_ legally an adult. But he knew that he would be dead meat if anyone in his large, peculiar family saw him.

He leapt out the window, landing on all fours on the damp lawn. The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, and he silently blessed Tony for giving him a ground floor bedroom. He looked around, and caught sight of a welcome figure standing beneath a street lamp's rays. Wade.

He ran lightly over to him, giving him a soft kiss on the older man's scarred lips. "Hey there, Petey pie. How's my baby boy doing?" Wade purred, looking adoringly at the young man in his arms. Peter smiled. "Better how that you're here. " He kissed him again, looking up through his lashes at his boyfriend of three weeks. "Do you want pizza before, or after?" He asked suggestively. Wade grinned.

The next morning, Peter woke to a pounding headache, a leather couch, and a sensation like sunburn on his left buttock. Wade snored softly beneath him. Peter rubbed his head and looked around. They were in a tattoo parlour, judging by the photos in the walls and dentist-like chair in the middle of the room. A vase of purple daisies was illuminated by a ray of early morning light. A leather jacket hung on a coat rack. 

Peter's heart began to sink as he studied the jacket. It was exactly like the one he gave uncle Steve last Christmas - his uncle who ran a tattoo parlour. He shook Wade. "Wake up, Wade, please wake up-" Wade groaned. "Petey baby, five more minutes, kitten..." Peter tapped frantically on his boyfriend's chest. "No, listen, we have to wake up before -" "Before uncle Steve, who owns this tattoo parlour, finds you?" Asked a very familiar voice. Uncle Steve walked around the corner, wearing a smile entirely inappropriate to Peter's hangover and the amount of trouble he was in.

The blonde man leaned against the wall. "Now why would you wanna do that? I'm sure you'd like some advice on the aftercare for your tattoos!" Wade, who was now fully awake, looked wide eyed at Steve. "Tattoos?" Steve nodded cheerfully. "Yep! You, Mr. Wilson, paid me three thousand dollars to tattoo each other's names on your butts. In comic sans, might I add!" Peter groaned and put his head in his hands."Why?" Steve's smile widened. "You two burst into my shop three minutes before closing time, smelling strongly of pizza and cheap beer, and paid me three grand. What's a humble business man to do?" 

 

Forty five minutes later, Wade and Peter were sheepishly eating eggo waffles in the kitchen in the flat attached to Steve's parlour. The blonde seemed to be enjoying their discomfort. Peter comforted himself in the fact that at least the tattoo would be easy to cover.

Later that day, Steve took advantage of the sunny weather and a hot dog stand to eat lunch at the park. He liked watching the people in the park having fun. He recognised one of his customers with his huge family having a picnic. The man, Erik his name was, sat beside his husband's wheelchair as their six children, all adopted, played around them. Steve thought it was admirable how they only adopted children who were disabled, abused, or simply unwanted, and gave them a loving home.

He heard a dog barking, and looked to see Thor and his dog Mjolnir. Thor laughed as his dog bounded around him. Mjolni pricked his ears up, and bolted towards Steve. He laughed as the dog skidded to a halt in front of him, dropping a mangled tennis ball at his feet. Thor jogged over to him. "Ah, there you are Mjolnir!" He stopped as he saw the ball. "I - how did you do that?" Steve picked the ball up and threw it, the big dog barking joyfully as he chased it. "How did I do what?" Thor looked at him strangely. "Mjolnir never lets anyone except me touch his ball, yet he offers it to you freely." Steve smiled easily. "I guess he likes me." Thor looked at him a moment. Mjolnir bounded over to them and dropped the ball. Thor smiled. "He must. I'm sorry, but I do not think I got your name." Steve stood, shook Thor's hand, and picked up the ball again. "Steve - Steve Rogers. You're Thor, right?" Thor nodded. "Forgive me if I'm being to forward, but I would like to know more about a man who can wield Mjolnir's tennis ball. May I drop into your tattoo parlour one of these days?" Steve smiled. "Sure, any time."

They were interrupted by a little boy crashing into Thor's leg. He bounced off, crashing to the ground. Erik ran over to him. "Sorry about that. You alright, Pietro?" The little boy brushed silver hair out of bis eyes and grinned. "I'm okay, daddy!" Erik walked away, berating the child for going too fast. 

Thor watched them walk away, then turned back to Steve. "I must be going now, but I am glad to have met someone else who can tame Mjolnir. I wilp see yousometime soon, friend Steven." Steve watched the blond man with his excited dog walk away. This was going to be interesting.


	3. It may sound crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've decided to doubls the number of chapters. Please review to keep me motivated! :)

The next evening, Steve was just sketching out some ideas for tattoos when he heard the bell jangle. Looking up, he saw the tall figure of Thor looking with interest at the shop. Mjolnir looked hopefully in the window from outside. He smiled at the taller man. "Thor! Nice to see you! What brings you round these parts?" 

The florist smiled in return. "Well, I was walking Mjolnir and I couldn't help but admire your artwork. It is truly beautiful." Steve flushed. Usually, when people complimented his work, it seemed...superficial in a way. But Thor seemed to be so genuine, in a way. It was refreshing. Outside, Mjolnir whined and pawed at the glass. Thor turned. "Mjolnir, hush!" He turned to Steve. "I am sorry, but my dog-" An overwhelming desire for company suddenly swept over Steve. 

Maybe it was the fact that he had been a bit apart from his friends ever since he and Tony had argued, forcing their friends to take sides. Maybe it was the fact that he had cut himself off from social media, so he only ever saw clients (and it's hard to make good small talk when you're tattooing a name on someone's butt). Maybe Steve just liked Thor. But whatever it was, it made him say, "You can bring him in here, if you want. I don't have any clients lined up at the moment, and I have a couple beers in the fridge if you want." Thor smiled warmly at Steve. "Well, I don't have any plans for tonight..." 

Mjolnir joyfully flung himself at Steve's lap when he was let in, tail wagging wildly, whining with happiness. Steve chuckled, straining to get away from the dog's tongue. "Mjolnir, sit!" Thor commanded, and the huge canine complied. Steve laughed. "Where'd you get this guy, huh? He's a real sweetheart." Thor smiled and rubbed the dog's ears. "Not many would say that about him. My father gave him to me, and you are the only other person I have known that he likes so much." Steve rubbed the husky's coat, and cooed, "Well, I feel honoured!" He turned to the other man. "Beer?" Thor seemed to tear himself away from his oen thoughts. "Hmm? Ah, yes please."

Steve returned with a six pack of beer, and the two men cracked open the cans and sat on Steve's couch, Mjolnir sitting on both their laps (with Steve's permission). 

The conversation was slow at first, their unfamiliarity making small talk difficult, but the alcohol soon loosened their tongues. The conversation was about trivial things at first - where they were from, what they liked to do, that sort of thing. But as the six pack was drunk, and a few bottles of the cheap wine Nat kept giving Steve for Christmas were brought out, it turned to deeper things. How Steve had fallen in love with his best friend, and how he had realised that there are deeper loves that aren't romantic. How Thor missed his dead mother, and blamed himself for her death. Steve hated being tiny and weak. Thor hated how his family was falling apart. They poured out their hearts to each other, drunk enough to feel comfortable with the secrets being shared, but sober enough to know what not to say.

Neither knew who had kissed first, but there they were - Steve almost on Thor's lap, with the florist's strong hands on his waist, lazy open mouthed kisses. Steve broke the kiss to lay his head on Thor's chest. "I - I don't wanna go further," he slurred. Thor stroked his hair. "Why not?" It didn't sound like he minded Steve's reluctance. The smaller man lifted his head. "I wanna just kiss you. I don't want you to just be a hookup." Thor nodded, and kissed Steve again. "I don't want you to be a hookup, either. I want to take you out." Steve shyly looked at him. Thor spoke softly, punctuating each sentence with a kiss on Steve's forehead, his cheeks, his lips. "I want to take you to a film. To a walk along the beach. To a museum. I want to get to know you, Steve." Steve smiled. "I want to get to know you, too."

They were both probably going to wake up to raging hangovers in the morning (six beers and eight bottles of wine will do that to you), but Steve had a date. He didn't have to be a hookup for this man, who - he wouldn't say he was in love with him yet. But maybe, one day, he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Please, review this so I know how good or bad I'm doing!


End file.
